


Demon’s Snare

by StarryKnight94



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Halloween, M/M, Vampire Katsuki Yuuri, Vampire Slayer(s), Vampire Victor Nikiforov, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 13:41:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16451027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryKnight94/pseuds/StarryKnight94
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky, a vampire slayer, sets out to take on the notorious Yuuri Katsuki. Victor observes until he doesn’t.





	Demon’s Snare

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Spooky Week challenge. HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Expect art for this soon!

Victor enjoyed most of the myths about his kind. Rumors about bats and flying entertained him endlessly and a nice, sweeping cloak would never go out of style as far as he was concerned.

Roaming foggy graveyards before dawn was not a myth he appreciated, nor desired for himself. He’d long abandoned the crypts and coffins of his yesteryears, graduating to underground luxury condos and lavish estates draped in the thickest curtains Neiman Marcus could offer. It was 2018 and the dead had progressed. Most of them anyway…

His boots rummaged through overgrown grass and he pulled the ends of his black, longcoat to his knees with a grimace. He wasn’t fond of this plan, but he could never seem to say no…

The familiar presence washed over him as he approached the stone mausoleum and an irrepressible grin stretched over his lips, the usual- yet ever intoxicating- promise of the chase beckoning him forward.

As expected, the door already stood ajar, blue light animating shadows to dance over the stone. A flashlight. Victor watched the black phantoms of trees as he approached, his own vestige glaringly absent.

The sound of stone skidding against stone pulled him in closer and he was at the tomb’s threshold, not at all surprised to see the human boy kneeling before a coffin in a tiger print hoodie, brow furrowed as he struggled with the lid.

Victor tilted his head, arms folded. “Does Yakov know you’re out at this hour?”

The slight jolt in Yuri’s shoulders might have gone unnoticed by the human eye, but Victor hadn’t been human in quite some time. A smile cracked his lips, two canine tips peeking through.

“Who cares?” Yuri grunted, his attention still firmly fixed on the task before him. He knew better than to look Victor in the eye.

A faux pout dragged over his mouth. “Recklessness will only get you so far, kitten,” he jabbed, soaking up the satisfaction when the blond bristled at the name. “You aren’t invincible, you know.”

Yuri finally turned to him, staring down his left shoulder. Never the eyes.

“You can’t kill me, Victor.”

It was Victor’s turn to bristle. “Can’t I?” he asked with a saccharine grin, fangs still teasing at the frame.

“Yakov would end you.” Yuri smirked and Victor’s eyes hardened.

It wasn’t impossible.

Yakov had requested he leave the brat alone- requested being an understatement- against all reason. The boy already notched five vampire kills under his belt. Five vampires Yakov wanted dead. But Victor knew ambition when it crossed him and Yuri was far too ambitious to toe the realms of what Yakov wanted. It was only a matter of time before the knife turned inwards. But his sire always had a soft spot for stubborn strays…

It wasn’t impossible to kill Yuri Plisetsky. It was simply more trouble than it was worth. Was.

“Yakov always forgives me,” he shrugged. Eventually. “You know I generally don’t care about your homicidal antics-”

“Can’t murder the dead.”

“- but your recent obsession’s attracted my attention.”

Yuri’s features scrunched for barely a second. Then the smirk returned, dark amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Holy shit,” he slammed his fists down on the stone to punctuate the word. “So it’s true. You’re protecting the pig.”

Victor only smiled.

His latest fledgling’s struggles with his weight had long vanished with his humanity. His appetite, however, remained. Though he thirsted for cuisine with more of a kick than pork cutlet bowls these days…

“Are you stupid?” Yuri snarled. “Even vampires hate this guy. Yakov said something’s no-”

“Yuuri is mine.” Victor suppressed the growl at the back of his throat. “That’s all you need to be concerned with.”

Yuri scoffed. “Since when do you give a shit? Yakov said you used to use your fledglings for target practice.”

“Perhaps.” He supposed he couldn’t argue with his past or Yakov’s big mouth. “But I’m fond of this one.”

Yes, Victor was fond. Fond of figure skating and online shopping. Of Greek Revival architecture and that last ragged gasp before a kill. Of course none of those things came close to comparing so ‘fond’ would have to do until some language offered a more fitting word for what he felt whenever Yuuri Katsuki entered a room.

As expected, Yuri took no heed to his thinly veiled threats and the rough skid of stone over stone filled the room once again.

The lid tipped at the edge of the coffin and Yuri threw one last glance at Victor.

“Otabek’s on his way,” he scowled. “If you try anything, we’ll take you down too.”

Victor successfully held in the burst of laughter at the very idea that a human child and a vampire of barely 5 years could ever achieve anything short of failing miserably against him.

“Some would say it’s disingenuous to court a vampire while murdering his kin in their sleep.”

“We’re not-” Yuri caught himself mid retort and shook his head, blond strands falling into his eyes. “You just want to distract me.” He let the lid crash to the tomb floor with a loud thud. “Your pig is dead, Nikiforov.” Through his fists showed a gleaming blade, silver to the tip with smooth, green and black malachite coating the handle.

The figure in the coffin lay deathly still, his head lulled to the side, brow furrowed as though experiencing a perplexing dream. Night black hair fell in wisps against pale skin and the velvet coffin’s deep red. Even in a tasteless crypt, wearing a tank top and sweatpants, Yuuri was every bit as breathtaking as the first time Victor spotted him across Lilia’s ballet studio forty years ago, creating music with his body and fantasies with his gaze alone.

Yuri snorted. “So this is it?” He glowered down at the sleeping vampire. “What’s so special about him? He looks pathetic...”

Victor smiled patiently as he went on and on. People always talked more when they got nervous, words spewing out to compensate for their reluctance to act or to drown out the impulse to run run run. Yuri had remarkable intuition. It was a pity he never used it.

“… I can’t believe your taste is this shit.” Yuri tossed the knife up and down a few times before aiming it forward, his eyes drawing a target on Yuuri’s chest. “It’s like I’m doing you a f-”

Yuuri’s eyes snapped open.

“FUCK!” Yuri visibly flinched, the knife flipping backwards as his back slammed against the stone wall. A cloud of dust dispersed and settled over him, coloring his blond tresses white. “What the hell?! I thought vampires were supposed to be hard to wake up!”

“Can’t believe everything you hear,” Victor offered with a shrug.

“Doesn’t matter.” Yuri steeled himself and moved forward. “Let’s do this, pig.”

Said pig curled into himself, settling into the velveteen cushions and releasing a soft sigh as his eyes fluttered shut again.

“HEY!” Yuri sounded almost insulted. “DON’T GO BACK TO SLEEP!”

Yuuri’s brow scrunched as though a particularly noisy bird were chirping in his ear. Sighing, he sat up with an unceremonious flop and fisted at his eyes.

He blinked blearily at Yuri. “Why’d you wake me up?”

“Eh…” The boy blinked back. “I’m a slayer.”

“Oh.” Yuuri’s hands fell into his lap. “That’s nice I guess.”

A battle of confusion and anger struggled for dominance across Yuri’s features. “I’m going to kill you, dumbass!”

Yuuri’s gaze wandered to the blade, still clutched in Yuri’s fist. He spared a small frown, as though he’d broken a nail. “Why?” he asked with the softest doe eyes.

Red seeped into Yuri’s cheeks and Victor thought he might combust right then and there, a magnificent spray of flame, blond and teenage angst.

“Because you’re a vampire, you greedy pig bastard!” he snapped. His chest rose and fell several times as Yuuri continued to blink at him with rounded eyes. He drew in a deep breath. “Why am I explaining myself to you?”

“You were trying to kill me in my sleep?” Yuuri folded his legs.

“Yeah.”

Yuuri frowned. “Rude.”

Yuri’s grip on the knife tightened. “Like I give a-”

“I didn’t expect that of the great Yuri Plisetsky.”

The knife lowered again and the tightness around Yuri’s features loosened. “What?”

“You’re a slayer, right?” An excited grin spread over Yuuri’s lips, eyes warm and beckoning. “One of the best in the city.”

Yuri continued to glower, but his shoulders deflated and his hold on the blade slackened. “So?”

“So I…” Yuuri dropped his gaze and reached to scratch at the back of his head. “I think that’s amazing. You must be really brave.” He gazed up again, brown eyes finding green and locking on. “I’ve been watching you.”

Yuri’s chest expanded rapidly, the whites of his eyes growing. But he couldn’t look away. Something inside of Victor relaxed and a new unease squirmed in its place.

“You’re pretending you’ve never seen me before, but you’ve been watching me too, haven’t you?”

Yuri shook his head, but he kneeled, eyes still wide as saucers and glued on the vampire before him.

“Well, I’ve been watching you,” Yuuri said. “Watching you hunt with that Swiss blade your dead parents left you. Watching you lie to your grandfather about where you’ve been. Watching you scream and cry into your pillow at night.” An apologetic smile teased at the corners of his mouth. “Or don’t you?”

“Yes,” Yuri bit out as though fighting a force unseen, pupils constricting into tiny, panicked marbles, limbs twitching. His gaze attempted to wander sideways in one last ditch effort.

“Speak up,” Yuuri took him by the jaw, hands and words still gentle as a reddish hue spilled in to tint the warm brown of his eyes. “And look at me when I’m talking to you.”

“Yes,” Yuri half sobbed.

“Good boy,” Yuuri smiled. “Now put that down.” He grasped Yuri’s wrist where he held the knife and it clattered to the ground.

Soft, cold laughter filled the crypt at every corner, reverberating off of the stone walls and sending thrills and shudders down Victor’s spine.

Yuuri turned to face his sire with a smug grin. “I told you I could d-”

Yuri’s twitching arms lunged forward, tackling him by the neck. He stumbled back into the coffin, vanishing within the red folds. In a blink, Victor hovered over them, eyes icy as he caught Yuri by the neck and wrenched him backwards into a chokehold.

Yuri stilled, every muscle tense with the feel of Victor’s cool breath against his neck.

“Y- Yakov-” Yuri grunted.

“He’ll get over it.” Victor reared back, fangs glinting under the artificial light. His lips curled into a toothy grin against the warmth of the boy’s neck, feeling his final, panicked gasp through the flesh.

“He’ll get over it.”

A flash of silver forced them apart, a few strands of silver and speckles of human blood flying into the air with it. The knife plunged into the stone next to Victor, bits of rock cracking and crumbling away from the tomb walls. Yuri collapsed to the ground in pain, a pink gash torn across his jaw, and Victor let him. He reached up, fingers threading through his bangs where the now missing strands should have been. They’d grow back in a matter of hours, but that wasn’t the point. The murderous scowl on his features shifted to a strained grin as he turned on his assailant.

“You enjoy trying my patience, don’t you, love?”

Yuuri gave him a toothy grin as he sauntered across the stony crypt, eyes glinting red with Victor at their center. “Is that a threat?”

“Probably not.” Yuuri had become entirely too comfortable. Far more comfortable than any fledgling created before him and it should have been a threat. As it was, Victor’s patience seemed endless when it came to Yuuri.

“You said I could have him,” Yuuri’s smile sobered, eyes burning. “That he was mine.”

“Yuuri,” Victor sang, pulling him in close, arms encircling the svelte curve of his waist. One hand travelled up to the curve of his neck where Yuri’s fingers had pressed in just moments earlier, leaving slender, grey indents. “You slipped up.”

The affronted look Yuuri gave him was priceless and he decided suffering a surprise knife attack in exchange perhaps wasn’t so bad.

“Have I failed as a teacher?” he pouted.

The flame in Yuuri’s eyes raged. “I was already in his head! I could have overpowered him easily.”

“You wouldn’t have had to if you stopped playing with your food.” Victor tilted his head in doleful disapproval. “You missed the opportune moment so I had to step in.”

Yuuri reached behind Victor to grasp the knife handle and roughly forced it from the stone, leveling it at the point where Victor’s pulse hadn’t beat in centuries. Cold metal dug into the skin, tiny threads of flesh slicing apart under the silver.

Victor stared him down with cold eyes and the faintest hint of curiosity. Yuuri remained unalarmed, almost bored, studying the blade as it cut into Victor and teasing it backward and forward.

“You know I don’t like other people eating my things,” Yuuri said, finally removing the blade from Victor’s neck and cleaning the scarlet edge with a smooth swipe of his tongue.

“Other people?” Victor asked, an edge in his tone, control splintering at the seams.

Yuuri reached out again, this time with gentle hands, to take him by the chin. He led his gaze until it locked and Victor sank. A soft “Vitya” was all it took and his anger melted with his pride, drifting somewhere deep in the russet chasm.

It had been like this then too. Decades ago when Yuuri ensnared him across the empty ballet studio. When every night with Yuuri tangled in his arms, moaning frantically beneath him, he’d resisted draining him dry. When Yuuri asked him for the kiss of death, eyes solemn as the grave, and he acquiesced without a second thought. He forgot everything with Yuuri- logic, ego and all the troublesome thoughts they summoned, vanishing into a sweet abyss.

A scent wafting up from below lured him back. Yuri was crawling for the mausoleum exit, a sweaty mess of grunts, pained moans and sweet, bright red blood as he struggled over the stone. Victor licked his lips.

“You’re already leaving?” Yuuri asked, the disappointment obvious in his tone. “But you just got here.” He pulled away from Victor and walked calmly around the teenager squirming on the ground. “Didn’t you want to conquer me so badly?” he asked, crouching down.

“Fuck you,” Yuri choked out, nursing the side of his face where blood bubbled out from between his fingers. He used his other arm to swing at the vampire.

Yuuri dodged easily. “Stand up.”

The boy stood.

“Now smile.”

A grotesque grimace twisted over his features, the gash in his jaw frothing, his eyes wide with pain.

“Like you mean it.”

It widened just a tinge and Victor couldn’t help but laugh.

“I warned you, didn’t I, kitten?” He stepped toward him, raising one finger to tap at the tip of his nose. “It didn’t have to be this way.”

He started to pull away and then stopped in full at the sight of red flowing from Yuri’s cheek. Strong fingers pressed against his collarbone before he could lunge forward and he bit his lip instead.

“Yuuri,” he growled, hunger mounting.

“Victor,” Yuuri teased back. “We’ll get something for you when I’m done.”

“Fucking pig…” Yuri managed and Yuuri pressed a finger to his lips.

“Don’t talk while I eat,” he smirked. “It’s rude.”

“Any last words?” Victor asked, trying his hardest to ignore the scent of fresh blood.

Yuri stared straight ahead, the grimace still in place. Then he settled on Victor, his expression going strangely calm. “You’re next,” he said and then Yuuri was on him, teeth sinking into the plump flesh of Yuri’s neck and Victor growled again.

It was maddening when Yuuri didn’t want to share.

He surveyed the two, Yuri’s eyes slowly glazing over while Yuuri supported his weight, lapping hungrily from the wound to the punctures he’d pierced in Yuri’s throat. Victor’s gaze settled on the marks the boy had ironically left upon Yuuri’s neck and a slow smile curved over his lips.

Well, it wasn’t exactly sharing.

He moved to stand behind Yuuri. The vampire tensed, suction slowing.

“Vic- AGH!”

Victor’s fangs sank into his throat, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy as the taste of both Yuri and Yuuri’s blood combined flowed over his tongue.

Yuuri only struggled for mere seconds before a pleasured sigh escaped his lips and he returned to Yuri’s throat. He never could resist his kiss.

They went on like this until time bent and Victor’s vision spotted with red red red.

“Yakov is going to kill me,” Victor said, peering at the pale, lifeless form of his most recent kill being recklessly dragged over the mausoleum floors toward the coffin.

“He won’t,” Yuuri said as he eased the boy in, unblinking green eyes disappearing into its depths. “I’ll talk to him.”

“He’ll insist we should have turned him instead,” Victor sighed, eying his fingernails. “Something about not killing children or whatever.”

“Some children are better off dead,” Yuuri shrugged.

Victor snorted. “He would have fallen on the knife anyway.”

Yuuri nodded as he closed the lid over Yuri’s body. “Probably.”

Probably.

Yakov would understand. He always did. Eventually. Yuuri would talk with him and his anger would disintegrate as though it never existed. Like it always did. Like it would this time and the next time and the next.

 _You’re next_.

“Victor,” He looked up to see deep brown eyes peering into him, the crimson hue sinking back with each pulse of his irises. “Let’s go home.”

Victor reached up, giving Yuuri his hand.

He would give Yuuri anything.


End file.
